


Two-Man Advantage

by 7iris



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:00:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7iris/pseuds/7iris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PK sticks to his story. Brandon jumped him and he wasn't prepared, that's why Brandon took him down. But that doesn't mean he's going to let it go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two-Man Advantage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katarin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katarin/gifts).



> For the prompt "wrestling that turns into sex." Thanks to algernon_mouse for the beta!

"He jumped me!" PK yells for the camera's benefit.

Brandon's body is wrapped around him, all solid, sweaty muscle. His thigh is shoved between PK's legs and his hand is tight on PK's wrist. PK wriggles, trying to get free, but Brandon is an immovable weight. It doesn't help that PK can't stop giggling. 

Brandon lets him go, dumping a cup of ice on his head before he bounds off to work off his restless energy with someone else.

"A warrior!" PK tells the camera, still laughing. If he's breathless for other reasons, if his dick's a little more interested in the proceedings than is strictly appropriate, well, that's between him and his Under Armour. 

*

PK sticks to his story. Brandon jumped him and he wasn't prepared, that's why Brandon took him down. But that doesn't mean he's going to let it go. PK has a plan. 

He leans over Brandon's shoulder to grab his extra keycard at the next hotel. Brandon raises his eyebrows and PK gives him a cheesy grin. "I'm coming by later, and this way your lazy ass won't have to get up to let me in."

Brandon opens his mouth to argue, but PK is already speed-walking away. He catches Alex's eye, flashes him the card, and Alex grins.

PK waits until after dinner, when it'll be just them, no cameras, no teammates. He's pretty sure this is going to work, but if it he's wrong, he really doesn't want any witnesses. PK leaves the card in the door when he lets himself in.

Brandon's flopped down on the bed in a t-shirt and sweats, watching a cooking show. His hair is still damp from the shower.

"Really? Martha Stewart?" PK asks.

Brandon flips him off lazily and doesn't look away from the TV.

PK grabs the remote off the nightstand. Brandon makes an outraged noise and lunges up off of the bed. PK dances back, laughing, and Brandon tackles him.

They both go down. The remote skitters out of PK's grip and they ignore it.

The thing is, Brandon actually does know what he's doing when it comes to fighting. Even when PK's ready, even when he knows this is coming, Brandon still manages to get the upper hand.

"Say it," Brandon says, grinning down at him. "I win again."

PK grins back at him. "Chucky!"

Brandon's eyes widen when the door opens.

"I brought backup," PK says, and then Alex has Brandon in a headlock and is dragging him back off of PK.

PK scrambles up and throws his shoulder against Brandon's thighs, so he can't get his legs under him. Alex sits down hard, but he's still got a grip on Brandon. 

PK straddles Brandon's thighs, settling all his weight on him. Alex yanks Brandon's arms up over his head, pins his wrists to the floor. Brandon's laughing and swearing at them. He twists, trying to get free, but between them both, they've got him pinned.

"Fuck yeah, teamwork," PK says. He'd high five Alex, but he's not entirely sure they should let go of Brandon yet.

Brandon bucks his hips, and PK slides forward a few extra inches to keep him down, and _oh_. 

Brandon is completely hard under him. 

So, yeah, PK totally had a plan, but sometimes plans change.

PK grinds down against Brandon's dick and Brandon's laughter cuts off. 

"Is that what all this has been about?" PK asks. "Are-- are you pulling people's pigtails so we'll hold you down?"

Brandon's face is flushed. His mouth flattens out. "Fuck off--"

"Because I'm down with that." PK's already a little hard just from wrestling. He runs his hands over Brandon's chest and rolls his hips again. He is definitely down with this. 

PK looks up at Alex. "How about you, Chucky? You wanna run his show?"

Alex's eyes are wide and uncertain, but he hasn't loosened his grip on Brandon's shoulders. PK waits. He's seen how Alex looks at Brandon. He rocks his hips against Brandon and Brandon bites down on a gasp. Alex is watching Brandon's face. He looks back up at PK and nods, quick and jerky. 

PK grins. "What do you say, Prusty?"

Brandon licks his lips. He pulls hard against Alex's grip, but Alex doesn't let go. And Brandon doesn't say no.

PK slides his hands under the hem of Brandon's t-shirt and spreads his palms over the tight muscles of Brandon's stomach. "You want us to hold you down and make you come?"

Brandon glares and PK gives him an expectant look. 

"You gotta say it," Alex says, because he's a fast learner.

"Yes, fuck, do it," Brandon says, low and breathless. 

PK flashes him a triumphant grin. He shoves the hem of Brandon's t-shirt up to his neck. Alex shifts his grip long enough to yank the shirt over his head and down his arms, leaving it tangled around his wrists, fast enough that Brandon doesn't have a chance to get loose.

PK slides his hands over Brandon's bare skin, digs his fingers into his pecs. "Your fucking chest, man." He pinches one of Brandon's nipples and Brandon grunts, pushes his hips up.

PK gives him another slow grind, just to watch Brandon's mouth fall open. "I bet we could get you off just from this."

Brandon makes a noise somewhere between impatient and needy.

"What do you think, Chucky? Should we make him come in his pants like a horny teenager?"

Alex drags his eyes away from Brandon's face and grins at PK. He shrugs, drawing it out like he's really thinking about it. Then he shakes his head. "Do it right."

"You're lucky he likes you," PK says to Brandon. He kneels up and pulls Brandon's track pants down. Brandon's dick slaps against his belly, already leaking. PK settles his weight back onto Brandon's legs. He meets Brandon's eyes and licks his palm, slow and showy. He wraps his hand around Brandon's dick, and Brandon hisses in a breath.

PK strokes him lazily, his grip loose. Brandon's breathing speeds up. 

"Fuck, c'mon," Brandon grits out finally. He rolls his hips, trying to push up into PK's grip.

PK smirks. He shifts his weight further back, presses one arm across Brandon's hips, and leans in to lick Brandon's cock.

Brandon exhales like he's been sucker punched, but Alex is the one who says, "Oh," soft and shocked.

PK slides the head of Brandon's dick into his mouth. He's still just fooling around, teasing, his mouth soft, barely any suction. He keeps up the pressure on Brandon's hips, so he can't push up into his mouth. 

"God, fucking, just--" Brandon's voice is strained, his breath coming in harsh pants.

PK pulls off of his dick and Brandon whines in the back of his throat. PK presses his mouth against Brandon's hipbone, sucks a bruise into his skin. PK glances up at Brandon and Alex. Brandon's head is thrown back, and Alex is watching both of them with hot, dark eyes.

"Hey," PK says, his voice hoarse. "Prusty."

Brandon opens his eyes and blinks down at him.

"You should blow Chucky."

Alex inhales sharply, and Brandon tips his head back to look at him.

"Look at how hard he is, just from watching you," PK says, and Alex's face gets redder. "You wanna do something about that?"

"Yeah," Brandon rasps.

PK catches Alex's eyes. "Let him turn over."

Alex lets go of Brandon's wrists. PK kneels up and Brandon rolls over onto his stomach. He nuzzles Alex's hard-on through his sweats, and Alex clumsily pushes them down, so Brandon can get his mouth on Alex's dick. 

"Fuck," Alex says. 

Brandon grips the base of his dick and swallows him down. He clearly knows what he's doing, and it's hot, how eager and practiced he looks. Alex looks like he doesn't know where to put his hands, petting Brandon's shoulders and the back of his head. Brandon rolls his ass, rubbing off against the floor, and PK grabs his hips and pulls him up onto his knees. 

Brandon makes a frustrated noise. PK grips his ass and spreads him open, so he can lean in and drag his tongue over Brandon's asshole. Brandon moans around Alex's cock. 

PK smirks and does it again. Brandon's rhythm falters, like he can't concentrate on blowing Alex while PK is eating him out. 

"Fuck his mouth," PK says.

Alex gives him a dazed look, but his hips flex, his dick sliding deeper into Brandon's mouth. Brandon moans again, and Alex pulls back. "Shit--"

Brandon grabs Alex's ass and pulls him back in. 

"See?" PK says. He leans in and licks Brandon again.

"Shit," Alex says again, but it's soft and shaky this time. He tangles his fingers in Brandon's hair and fucks into his mouth. 

PK eats Brandon out until there's a thin, desperate edge to his breathing, until his thighs are shaking and he's pushing back against PK's mouth.

"I want--" Alex says. He tugs Brandon's head back, until the head of his dick is only brushing against Brandon's lips. "Can I--?"

"Yeah," Brandon says. His voice sounds wrecked. "Anything."

Alex gives himself a couple of rough strokes and then he's coming all over Brandon's face.

"God, that's hot," PK mutters. He bites the curve of Brandon's ass, and Brandon jerks. 

"Fuck, please--" Brandon gasps.

PK wraps his hand around Brandon's dick, rubs his thumb right up under the head, and licks into him. Brandon shudders all over and comes. The noise he makes goes straight to PK's dick.

He's so hard it hurts. At this rate, he's going to be the one coming in his pants like a horny teenager. He rolls Brandon onto his back. Brandon smiles up at him, lazy and sex-stupid, heavy-eyed. His face is still spattered with Alex's come. PK straddles his waist and shoves his sweats down around his thighs. He pulls his dick out, jerking himself off hard and fast. 

Brandon curls his hand around PK's thigh. "Yeah, c'mon, do it." 

The hot, restless tension in his gut snaps and he comes in heavy spurts across Brandon's chest. He slumps forward and braces one hand on the floor next to Brandon's head. Brandon smirks up at him and rubs his come into his skin.

PK laughs, short and breathless, and drops his head to press his mouth against Brandon's. Brandon takes a startled breath, and PK pulls back. "Sorry--" 

Brandon grabs the back of his neck and lifts his head, catching PK's mouth and kissing him deep and dirty.

When they break apart, PK sits back. He licks his lips and looks at Alex. "You should--"

Alex leans in and kisses him. He's clumsier than Brandon, but just as enthusiastic. 

"Yeah, that, too," PK says, and he sounds a little dazed even to his own ears.

Alex bites his lip and ducks his head, but he's smiling. Brandon props himself up on one elbow and tugs Alex down into an easy, open-mouthed kiss. Brandon looks smug when he pulls back. He flops back down again, resting his head on Alex's thigh. 

PK presses his thumb into the bruise he left on Brandon's hipbone. "Dude, your flirting technique needs work."

Brandon's self-satisfied smirk gets wider. "I dunno, I think it worked out pretty well for me here."


End file.
